


Finn Hudson: Kitty Enabler

by Anonymous



Category: Glee, ねこあつめ | Neko Atsume: Kitty Collector
Genre: Alive Finn Hudson, Attempt at Humor, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Not Blaine Friendly, Not Rachel Friendly, stupid cat game, weirdly affectionate brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the Glee Prompt Meme. Rachel and Blaine are concerned about Kurt. It turns out there's a reason for his behavior, which is cartoon and comes with four-legged cats, and it's up to Finn to fly out to New York City and save his brother before he starts dreaming of crosshair cat butts and neon yards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
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> Kurt Hummel more or less had his life together until, on a NYADA classmate's recommendation, he downloaded the Neko Atsume app for his iPhone. He instantly became obsessed with the cute little cat-collecting game, and what started as a little idle fun started taking over most of his life. He's spending no small amount of real world money to purchase gold fish for his cats on his iPhone and his iPad (two separate yards to tend to, after all). He checks his devices obsessively, talks about the game all the time, worries about his little digital kitties when he isn't able to check in on them, and has ordered all manner of Neko Atsume merchandise from Japan, wracking up some sizable credit card debt. Blaine and Rachel have tried in vain to reason with Kurt, so Burt convinces Finn to fly out to New York to try to talk Kurt down from his kitty collecting craze. Kurt convinces Finn he needs to at least try the game before making any pronouncements about it. Unfortunately, from the very first moment that Ginger wanders across Finn's darkened screen to leave behind a momento, Finn is just as hooked as Kurt. Will kitty collecting be their ruin?
> 
> Background relationships are okay (though I'd REALLY prefer no Finchel, please - Pinn is great, Finn being single is just fine, Kurt could be with whoever as long as it doesn't pull focus), but this story should focus on the relationship between Kurt and Finn. It can be brotherly Furt or can turn into Kinn romance if you'd like to add that element

“Finn.” Rachel’s voice berates him from down the phone. “I need you to come to New York.” 

It’s just before nine in the morning. Finn’s face down on his too-tiny dorm bed and -- ugh -- an empty chip packet is pressed into his stubbly cheek. He’s not down for this; first Rachel tries the no contact thing, and then she tries the _friend_ contact thing, and now she’s demanding he visit using a tone of voice that’s even sharper than Quinn and Santana’s put together?

 _Girls_. He will never understand girls, least of all his exes. 

“Well?” Rachel says, expectantly. 

“We’ve been over this. I can’t just --” 

“Now, Finn.” 

Even under the fuzz of his hangover, Finn knows it’s not an emergency. At least, not of the conventional kind. “What is it?” he says, a little less patiently than he probably should. “What do you need me to do?”

“Kurt’s in trouble,” Rachel says. “You know, your _brother_?”

“Oh. Shit.” Finn sits up, suddenly feeling a whole lot more sober. “Is it Blaine? He didn’t --” 

“No. Blaine’s been trying to reason with him just as much as I have!” Rachel insists. “We’re all looking out for him, but we just don’t know what to do about --” 

“What’s.... the problem, exactly?” 

“I don’t know,” Rachel says, quietly. “He keeps asking to borrow money, and he’s always on his phone, but he’s not wearing headphones, and he’s not typing. The pair of us have narrowed it down to online gambling, or...” she coughs. “Or maybe he fell prey to one of those make-me-a-model schemes. I should know; the recruiters _scouted_ me in Times Square after class, and I never even --” 

Finn rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Rachel? I don't get you. The last thing I hear is that you're making acquaintance with Jesse St. James again, and how you're trying to pretend Kurt's in some kind of mortal peril to get me to fly out?" 

“Your brother could really be in da --” 

“He’s not,” Finn snaps back. “He was fine in our Skype chat last night. Sure, he was always on his phone, but only _you_ have that weird Phone Nanny program that stops you messing about when you should be doing important stuff. It’s the twenty-oh-tens. We're all addicted to our iPhones. Now can I go back to b --” Finn pauses. “The, uh, library?”

Rachel huffs at him, and hangs up. Finn thinks back to his chat with Kurt last night, and his brother was fine! Sure, he’d had to go and re-heat his warm milk in the microwave twice because he was constantly checking his phone, but maybe he’s finally moving on from Blaine? That, in all probability, is what concerns Rachel. Trust Blaine to make it all about _him_ ; the Hobbit thinks Finn’s going to fly out there and assist in some lame-ass Klainetervenion? Not cool. He shakes his head, and stares at the wooden slats above his tiny bed, hoping Puck didn’t finish the last of his Advil. 

\--

“Hey. Did Rachel call you about Kurt this morning?” Puck asks, through a mouthful of chips.

“Yeah, and my brother’s _fine_ ,” Finn insists.

“Like you’d even know.”

“Oh, yeah, because you check in with Jake like _all_ the time...” 

“Prepare to be blown away, because me and Jake are thick as thieves,” Puck says. He reaches for his phone and shows Finn a series of Snapchats he’s sent Jake. “We’re almost as thick as _you_. I bet your Snapchat game’s not that good.” 

“Excuse _you_ , but it so is. I sent him pictures of people wearing weird things. He seems to like that. And he snaps me those weird bakery things he’s eating. But... come to think of it, he’s not sent me anything for days. Kinda weird, you know? He goes all quiet when school stresses him out, but last time I saw him he was more together, so...” 

Puck punches him on the arm. “So you’re going to ignore Rachel when she says your brother needs help? I mean, Batshit Berry has that whole weird psychic thing going on.” 

Finn sighs. He never thought Puck would be the voice of reason, but then he never thought he’d be having Skype dates with his brother where he drinks warm milk and they hate watch ‘Chopped’ together.

“Well?” Puck prompts. 

“Shut up. ‘m thinking.” 

“Holy shit, he’s thinking!” Puck says, and starts to hum the Jeopardy theme. He punctuates the end of it with a snap of his fingers and a telling head nod. “You seem to do a lot more thinking about Kurt then Rachel these days...”

“And what’s _that_ suppose to mean?” 

Puck whistles, and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course I think about Kurt. He’s family.” Finn grins. “That’s it! Family! I’m going to call Burt to see if I can get some answers. I mean, you’re right. It’s probably nothing, but I promised Burt I’d have his back, you know?”

“Sure. I’m worried myself. We’ve not had a batch of his lemon cookies in weeks, and my sister’s crappy Girl Scout ones aren’t bringing it. Think they used a different factory or some shit.” 

“You’re suggesting I fly out to bring back _cookies_?” 

“Nah. I’m suggesting you fly out to make sure your brother’s not in some kind of Breaking Bad situation,” Puck says, sagely. “Let’s face it, guy’s life’s more boring than Walter White. Nobody would suspect a thing.” 

\-- 

It’s obvious that something’s up as Finn talks to Burt. Granted, he’s not super close to his step-father; they watch bad TV together and drink a few beers sometimes, but Mr. Schue’s always been much more of a father figure. If Finn’s honest, Burt has this _look_ where he narrows his eyes like pinpricks and rubs at his bald head like he’s about to flay you alive. 

“... and the kid maxed out his credit card. Again! I help out as much as I can, but we’re not lottery winners. DId he _win_ the lottery? Because he sure is spending money like he is, and how many berets does one college kid need to keep his head warm? I’m about to --” 

“Uh...” Finn pauses. Burt’s wearing that look now, he can tell. “How is this worrying, exactly? Kurt dropped four hundred bucks buying my mom a stylish winter wardrobe from Target. He paid $50 to eat this donut croissant thing the last time I visited.”

“This is a lot, Kiddo. Even for _him_. You think you could go show my son the value of money?”

“Did you look at the receipts?” Finn asks. 

“Uh huh. Some website or something called Hit-Point?” 

“I haven’t heard of that one.” Finn pauses. “I’ll look it up on Google, okay?” 

“I think you should go see your brother. Kid’s been through a lot of upheaval these past few years. Fightin’ with Blaine, then moving to New York, then breakin’ up with Blaine, then Blaine following him around in NYADA, and ---” 

“Okay, okay.” 

“When was the last time you even saw your brother, hm?”

“When was the last time he saw _me_?” Finn replies, and instantly regrets his clumsy choice of words. “No, I mean -- I can’t keep going out. I mean, Rachel’s going to get the wrong impression if I keep --” 

“You’re a good kid, Finn. I lived through my twenties myself; they’re all about reconfiguring. But... this is the third time this year he’s asked me to bail him out. and he’s not talking to _any_ of his friends. Even Rachel, and the two of them, they never shut up!” Burt sighs. “I sometimes feel like I’m the last to know anything that’s happening in my kid’s life. First the engagement, then the break-up, and now whatever _this_ is.” 

“I can’t afford to fly out.” 

“I’ll transfer you some air miles,” Burt says. “You get on that plane, and you find out what’s going on. And when you do? You tell him it was Carole’s idea!” Burt declares, in such a way that Finn’s finding it powerless to disagree. 

\--

Finn’s always quite _liked_ digging up dirt on people. It makes him feel sneaky smart, and sort of like he’s in Brooklyn-99 or something. Getting to the bottom of Kurt’s... crisis doesn't take much, though. He Googles ‘Hit-Point’ and finds out that it’s a company that makes online games. What sort of online games, Finn’s not entirely sure.

The answer, though, becomes clear when Kurt posts a picture on his Instagram that evening. He writes that he’s got an extension to his yard that he’s been saving up for. That baffles Finn; since when did Kurt have a yard? Sure, he has a planter on the fire escape where he grows culinary herbs like mint and oregano, but a _yard_?

It’s accompanied by a picture of a crudely-drawn yard with a handful of cartoon cats. 

“The fuck, Kurt?” Finn looks at the picture. “Maybe you _are_ doing drugs.” 

Then, he scrolls down Kurt’s Instagram a little further. There are even more pictures of the shitty cartoon yard. It’s complete with small cartoon cats, playing with crudely-drawn cat toys. Finn knows Kurt _hates_ cats; their fur and their claws, at least. 

The only conclusion Finn can draw is that his brother’s Instagram was hacked and someone wanted to take the credit for all his artsy shots of the baked goods he eats and the fancy clothes that he wears or something. That’s why he’s acting all weird around his phone, right?

\--

“Dude, no.” Puck shakes his head, and pauses whatever he’s watching on his laptop. “You think he’s been hacked or, or _blackmailed_?” He opens up another window with Kurt’s Instagram in it and starts laughing. “This isn’t someone taking over his Instagram. This is that kitty collector game.” 

“Kitty -- _huh_?” 

“My sister plays it. It’s this totally pointless thing where you go around collecting imaginary cats and shit. I mean, of all the people to get addicted to online gaming --” 

“Burt wants me to fly out there this weekend.” 

“Damn right. He’s blowing his credit cards on some weird pet raising thing? Maybe if it was like, Flight Rising or something and he raised _dragons_ , but....” Puck looks away, his cheeks a little pink. He types something on his laptop, and starts laughing. “Wow. This is an actual _thing_. You spend your real money on gold fish to buy your cartoon kitties sushi, and cat condos. Can’t he just get a real cat?” 

“Kurt _hates_ cats! That’s what’s so disturbing!” 

“Is that it?” Puck laughs. 

“And you were thinking it was drugs, or some mafia shit!” Finn says, and starts to laugh. “He’s addicted to collecting cartoon _cats_! This is priceless! There he was, trying to use _my_ browser history to blackmail me, and he does _this_?” 

“You don’t even get to play with the cats,” Puck says, scrolling down the page. “You put down food for your fake computer cats, and then buy them toys, and then they leave you gold fish to buy _more_ food and toys. If you don’t feed them, nothing happens. How fucking pointless.” 

“That’s it?” Finn blinks. “At least that Tamagotchi I had as a kid died and pooped and stuff.” 

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“So lame.” Finn laughs. “Why does Kurt even _need_ to have virtual cats? Most of his friends from high school live in New York, and he has his band, and his friends from NYADA, and his co-workers from Vogue dot com.” 

“Maybe he finds it comforting?” Puck suggests, and flicks back to the episode of Game of Thrones he’d been watching with one character about to meet a very bloody end. “Or maybe he hasn’t seen you in so long he’s just nostalgic for mindless stupidity?”

Finn throws a near-empty bottle of hot sauce at him. “Dickhead.” 

\--

The following weekend, Finn flies out, dead set on seeing his brother’s _worrying_ behaviour for himself. He knows that Rachel and Blaine both have a flair for the dramatic, but it’s honestly nice to know that he can be there for a few days with the express purpose of focusing on Kurt. Indeed, Blaine is spending the weekend with David Karofsky of all people -- he really doesn’t want to ask -- and Rachel has a _business date_ with Jesse St. James. 

Maybe he should come to New York more often? It’s good for both his brain and his liver to have a change of scenery. 

Finn knocks on the door. He waits, and waits, and then wonders if surprising Kurt was such a great idea. His brother’s always been busy, after all. He’s probably out. Just as Finn is about to get on a subway for a few hours and walk through Central Park which is really the only place in the city he knows how to get to on his own volition, the heavy door to the apartment creaks open. 

“Surprise!” Finn stretches his arms out, fixing a beaming smile on his face. 

There’s no response. Kurt shrugs one shoulder and stares back a little blankly. He’s carrying his phone in his hand, and he looks more than a little twitchy. He’s wearing clothes that are very _un_ -Kurtlike, more so considering the fact that it’s Friday evening. It’s not like he’s a complete slob, but he’s dressed simply and plainly, and Finn knows there’s no chance Kurt would ever leave the house dressed like this. 

“My favorite brother!” Finn says, a little mockingly. “It’s so good to see you, gimme a hug, I’ll come in and bake you some cookies!” he says, knowing he’ll probably get a rise out of Kurt but he’s come all this way as a surprise and the guy won’t even shoot him one of his toothy little smiles. 

Kurt, though, rolls his eyes. “I’m not getting back together with Blaine.” 

“I promise you, my visit has nothing to _do_ with Blaine.” Finn chuckles. “Actually, I’m quite happy to avoid the guy entirely. It’s nice to get you all to myself.” 

Kurt sighs, and looks at his phone again. “Okay. I believe that much.” 

“I --” Finn corrects. “A _lot_ of people are very worried about you.”

“Worried about me _how_?” Kurt says, one hand on his hip. “Never mind. Can I get that hug?”

Finn nods, beaming. He extends his arms again, and this time, Kurt smiles with the corner of his mouth and steps a little closer. He rests his head just below Finn’s chin, and makes a sniffly noise, his guard down at last. 

“I don’t mean for _anyone_ to be worried about me,” Kurt says, the breath making the thin fabric of Finn’s shirt a little damp. “I’m not complaining about my hug-o-gram, but why are you _really_ here? Yes, break-ups are tought, but I only have an Ambien occasionally. I maybe sleep shop twice a month; that’s hardly ‘Intervention’, Finn!”

“Nah, but you have to admit, when you max out your credit card bills on --” 

“Fine, yes. The cat game.” Kurt sighs.” Burt put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Finn nods. “Uh huh? I mean, look. I’ve done some pretty stupid things. Spent _money_ on some pretty stupid things, like baseball cards, and old ‘Eagles’ LPs, and signed drumsticks. I don’t understand _why_ , but you know I’m the last person who’d judge you for it, okay?” 

“It’s a long story,” Kurt mutters. “Let me just do a quick check for Peaches, then I’ll explain.” 

\-- 

Kurt makes Finn a pot of tea, which he’s too polite to not drink. It tastes a little like really bad toothpaste. There are no super tiny cookies, this time, but some delicious syrup pastry that seems to counteract whatever’s in the tea.

“So.” Kurt sighs, nibbling on the edge of his pastry. “You know my classmate. Adam?”

“Oh, the British guy?”

Kurt nods. “We were having a dessert date at ‘Serenity’, and Adam was telling me about how he was feeling homesick. One thing lead to another, and he suggested I download the cat game. Neko Atsume? At first, I laughed at him.”

“Right! You hate cats!” 

“Exactly. But...” Kurt sighs, and pulls out his phone. On it, the yard is a modern-style affair, with a cat condo with red, white and black circles. On the cat condo there’s a gray tabby with its tail stuck up ramrod straight, and another gray tabby with a white front staring at a little goldfish bowl. “It helped. With the loneliness, after Blaine broke up with me.” 

“I guess it’s a healthier coping mechanism than Zach Garcia’s parties,” Finn mutters. 

“Indeed. Don’t laugh, Finn, but you should try it out. You might find it calming.” 

\-- 

As they catch up that evening -- with Kurt setting alarms to periodically check in with his cat yard -- Finn decides to humor him. He actually deletes a few videos on his phone to make space for the cat game, and enjoys the smile on Kurt’s face when they curl up on the couch together. Kurt talks Finn through the basics of the game -- he puts down the free ‘chips’ at first, and keeps checking and rechecking, his heart speeding up a little in spite of himself.

“Kurt, Kurt!” he says, pumping his fist. “Look, I found my first kitty!” 

“Aw, Akage-San!” Kurt claps his hands together. 

“Akage-San?”

“That’s her Japanese name. I first downloaded this before the English version came out, and old habits die hard. In your game, she’s called ‘Ginger’.” 

“Aw. Hi, Ginger!” Finn says, feeling a little warmth blooming in his chest as he watches the cartoon kitty that looks a little bit like one of those red pandas he saw at the zoo chill out on his screen. “Look, she loves that little ball of pink yarn. Look at her go!” 

Kurt reaches for his iPad which is on the coffee table and shows Finn his own screen. “This is my set-up.” 

“Wow, that’s really cool!” Finn grins. “Look, that little guy climbed all the way up up your cat condo!” 

“Oh, yes.” Kurt smiles. “That’s Yamaneko-San. Or Bob the Cat.” 

Finn blinks, confused. “Wait, I thought you had that fancy modern-looking condo? With the black platforms?”

“Ah. I have a different set-up on my phone and my iPad,” Kurt explains.

“Less of a cat collector, and more of a cat hoarder,” Finn laughs. He checks his own phone again. “Oh, eww, little guy! I don’t want to see your butt! Okay, I’m going to call this one Puck.” 

“Be careful with that,” Kurt warns him. “You’ll see a lot of cat butt in this game.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says, as he checks in again. “I think I just found Puck II and Puck III.” 

“Beginner’s luck,” Kurt mutters. 

“Guess I’ve always been good at checking out butts,” Finn laughs.

Kurt makes a few wisecracks about his love life, but they sit there, comfortable. The TV plays some background noise as Kurt explains the in and outs of the game, and as loathe as Finn is to admit it, it’s much more fun than any frat party he’s been to recently. So what if Kurt’s spent some money on virtual cats? It’s not like it’s harming anyone, and it’s clearly a reflection that his friends perhaps aren’t as tuned in to how much Kurt’s working and studying. If the guy finds some stress relief in a bunch of virtual cats, who cares?

\-- 

Rachel returns from her _business date_ at precisely eleven pm. She sighs audibly as she walks through the door of the loft, holding a pair of heels that look uncomfortably pointy and high in her hand and wincing a little. Finn shoots her a sympathetic look, and immediately goes back to his phone, where his sushi is bringing _all_ the cats to his yard. Sure, he might have bought a few gold fish on Kurt’s urging, but it’s not even a dollar, and the cats will give him more gold fish. Really, it makes perfect business sense. 

“Damn, I’m wasted as an education major,” Finn mutters, smirking as he notices Tubbs in the bottom corner. That fat white dude had better leave him _so many sardines_. “It makes its own profit.” 

Kurt points at his screen. “No!” he says, tersely. “Don’t refill the bowl, Finn. Rookie error.” 

Rachel’s voice is shrill when she speaks. “What is _wrong_ with you two!” 

“I wanted to see what Kurt liked about the game so much,” Finn says, flipping through the list of toys to buy. “Hey, Kurt? I think I’m going to get the baseball next. Or maybe the train, but that’s _sixty_ gold fish. Ooh, but then if I save up for a yard extension --” 

“Ooh, I think you should go for the Western remodel,” Kurt says. “It really shows off Bob the Cat to his advantage. Of course, then there’s Peaches. Have you seen Peaches yet?” 

“She turned up, like, super quickly and then she was gone. I think I’m going to call her Santana, because she’s so good at sneaking around, and --”

“Put down your phones and listen to me!” Rachel says, loudly. She throws one of her fancy-looking shoes across the room. “You’re -- you’re!” she points a finger at Finn. “You’re just playing this game with him because you know how much it irritates _me_!” 

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Finn mutters. 

“Don’t you see what this is doing to him?” Rachel storms off, calling out over her shoulder. “I expected this sort of... of _whimsy_ from Kurt, but I never thought that you would stoop so low in your attempts to get back at me!” 

“Get back at her for _what_?” Finn scowls. “Lighten up, Rach. It’s a goddamn _cat game!_ ” 

Kurt shakes his head. “She’s been a little unhinged ever since she had a callback for the off-Broadway adaptation of Pride and Prejudice with Zombies. Apparently she was too _unhinged_ for the role herself. Now that’s a first.” 

Finn thinks that’s a horrible thing to say about your housemate and best friend, but he also thinks that Rachel’s failure to understand quite why him and Kurt are so drawn to something mindless and stupid and cute is such a big deal in itself. 

So, he gets his phone out again. “Show me what it looks like with the Modern Style extension?” he says, wiggling a little bit closer to Kurt. “But don’t show me all the cats,” he says. “I like surprises.” 

“Not going to ruin the surprise, but you _have_ to get that baseball,” Kurt says, sagely. 

"This is...." Finn reaches for the last tiny, tasty pastry on the coffee table. "This is nice." 

"It is," Kurt says quietly. "Thank you for coming to visit."

"I'm sorry. With Rachel... I know that's a poor excuse to avoid coming to see you." 

"It's better than Sam's suggestion that they put me on 'My Strange Addiction'," Kurt says with a low laugh. "Now c'mere. I'm going to make the most of all the free hugs this weekend." 

Finn smiles, and lets him cuddle in a little more, their guard down now that Rachel is loudly going through the motions of washing off her heavy eye make-up int he bathroom. He decides to just let them sit there and check on their cats in near-silence, because he suspects that Kurt doesn't get to enjoy the silence nearly as much as Finn knows he likes to living in the loft.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I am completely unable to write cracky Hudmel brothers playing Neko Atsume without turning it into a multi-chapter crack fic. Oops. Thinking of two more parts, with the option to bail out after the next part if lightly romantic Kurt/Finn isn't your bag.

Finn _does_ get the baseball, with the rest of the gold fish he purchased and a few gold fish that Lexi unexpectedly dropped him. When he checks his yard to find that a baseball cat has showed up, called _Joe DiMeowgio_ , he makes such an excited squeal that he wakes up Rachel. She comes out wearing a silky robe a shade darker than her hair, and one of those eye masks you wear on airplanes pulled up over her forehead so her bangs stick up a little. 

“It’s three am!” Rachel says. She scowls at him like he’s forgotten to take the trash out for weeks. “I knew college wouldn’t change you,” she mutters.

Ignoring her comments -- his grades are awesome this semester, but he feels that will fall on deaf ears -- Finn smiles, taking in the little baseball kitty with his bat and striped jersey.

“Sometimes I’m glad to be an only child.” 

It’s far too easy to tune her out these days; Finn just goes back to his game, setting out some more Bontio. He goes to the shop, and looks at some of the cubes, wondering if the cost to fish ratio is effective. The pillow was a good call; he got goodies from Snowball, Spots, _and_ Gozer. And what sort of a stupid cat name is Gozer, anyway? Finn decides to ask Kurt; that’s exactly the weird, yet somewhat awesome knowledge his brother would know. As it stands, his brother is making these tiny half-snore snuffling noises, and passed out on the recliner opposite Finn. 

“Huh?” Kurt says, bleary. He rubs at his eyes; he’s never been a heavy sleeper, but even the dead would be woken up by Rachel Berry when she’s got a point to prove. 

“Look at you two!” Rachel huffs. “You’re both up all night, playing that stupid cat game. And that music! It’s like... it’s like I’m in line at a theme park, waiting to go on my favorite ride, and _waiting_ , and _waiting_ , until --” 

“The operator tells you you’re too short to ride?” Kurt snaps, reaching for his own iPad.

“How _dare_ you!” Rachel says, folding her arms more tightly across her chest. “Look. I attempted to understand. I even downloaded this game myself, and if anyone loves cats, it’s me. I think you two are overcompensating for something.” 

“And who got her daddy to bail her out when she bought the signed headshot of ‘Funny Girl’ era Barbra on eBay?” Kurt counters. “It’s just harmless fun, and it’s been nice to have Finn visit. Catching up.” 

“I admit, it’s nice to see the pair of you catch--” Rachel groans, and storms into the kitchen. Finn hears the fridge open and suspects she’s getting a glass of water. “Cat-ching. Ha. Ha.” 

“I’ve not seen him _once_ this year!” Finn says, not dignifying Kurt with a response to his terrible (yet funny) pun. 

“Well, I do love you catching up, but I want you boys up by nine. I made a reservation at Champs for brunch tomorrow. Their eggs benedict are _incredible_.” Rachel smiles a little more fondly at them this time. “Almost as good as the real thing.” 

“Vegan brunch?” Finn winces. 

“Yes. It’s healthy, and you’ll know from senior year of high school that vegan substitutes can be very convincing. Those steaks you cooked for me, for example. What were they made from, seitan?” 

“Uh.” Finn looks at his toes, then to Kurt. 

“They _were_ vegan.” Rachel raises one eyebrow. “Weren’t they?”

Kurt starts laughing, and soon his phone is playing the jaunty theme that Rachel says reminds her of a theme park. Maybe she has a point; he’ll have to find a mute button somewhere. Still, the moment the _ding_ of collected fish sounds out, the tension seems to dissolve from Kurt, his shoulders relaxing and he slumps back in the recliner a little further. “Mr. Meowgi,” he explains. “There’s something very comforting about a meditating cat sat on a sparkly pink pillow. Why are you so tense, Rachel?” 

“Because Blaine and I --” She takes a large sip of her water. “We’ve been worried about you. Your _father_ is worried about you; do you have any idea what stress does to cardiac function? But no.” She fires another glare at Finn. “You, Finn, you fly out here. I think, _wonderful, if anyone can get through to Kurt, it’s his brother_ , but no! You’re even worse!” 

“It’s just a cat game!” Kurt protests. 

“It’s taking over your _life_!” Rachel wails. 

“It’s relaxing,” Finn says. “It’s healthier than, I dunno, drowning your sorrows, or wasting zombies. And if you must know, its... well.” He feels his cheeks warm, wondering how much Puck would rib him if his best friend were here. “You gotta admit, those cats _are_ pretty damn cute.” 

“You hate cats.” Rachel’s glass of water is almost gone, now; Finn knows that the situation is causing her worry, even if she has blown it totally out of proportion. “Both of you. I remember how much you protested when Sam’s mom’s cat had kittens, and Carole said she was thinking of taking one in.” 

“I don’t hate _these_ cats,” Finn says.

Kurt nods. “Me neither.” 

“Well, fine! Maybe I’ll get an _actual_ cat.” Rachel sets down her water and claps her hands together. “I’ll get _two_ cats! Siamese, perhaps. Ooh, or a sweet little calico? I want something refined, of course. I want something graceful. Hygienic. Affectionate, but not _too_ demonstrative.” 

Finn’s zoning out by this point, while Kurt nods every few seconds, his eyes darting down to examine his fingernails. Finn’s had five _years_ of tuning out her rants; he thinks about his kitty collection, and his collection goals. Bob is definitely his favorite so far; if Finn were a cat, he’d definitely be one of those big stripey puffy things with his little green puffy cat vest. Rachel? She’d be the Vogue Lady cat. Kurt, of course, would be ‘Marshmallow’. Aloof. Or perhaps he’d be ‘Socks’, because he once made Finn some mittens, and Finn was lucky enough for Socks’ mittens to be his first memento. 

“Stop right there.” Kurt’s sharp tone pulls Finn out of his cat pondering reverie. “I _hate_ cats. What do you think we are, TV lesbians? Even _Santana_ draws the line at cats.”

“But you’re spending hundreds of dollars on a cat game!” Rachel says. 

Finn’s eyebrows scrunch. “ _Hundreds_? How is it hundreds? Kurt? The game’s finite, right? I mean, once you’ve collected all the cats and all the toys. You can’t keep spending forever, even if you have multiple devices.” 

“Well, there’s merchandise,” Kurt says. “Stackable mugs; a t-shirt I wear when I work out. Some stickers to liven up my journal. An iPhone 6 case. Just little things, really. _Trinkets_.”

“You have an iPhone 5, though,” Finn mutters. God, his brother really is far gone. 

“I’m looking into a new service plan,” Kurt defends. “It’s not like I’m one of those weird people that sell handmade toys on Etsy. Although... if Blaine was amenable, he could craft me a very fetching felt Tubbs.” 

“Tubbs?” Rachel says. "Who, or what, is Tubbs?"

“He’s the large white cat who eats all your food and then falls asleep,” Kurt says, and smirks at Finn. “Reminds me of a certain brother of mine.”

“Ignoring you, Kurt. I’m totally Bob the Cat.” 

“Not a _chance_. You can’t be Bob. His memento is a compass, and you can't even find your way around with a GPS tracker.” 

“Fine. Not Bob. But I’m not Tubbs, either.” 

“Pumpkin,” Kurt says, with a nod. “You’re vacant, and you _do_ like watermelon.”

“Damnit, you told me you weren’t going to spoil it for me!” Finn huffs. 

“Not my fault if you’re just putting out Frisky Bitz.” 

_Yep_ , Finn thinks. _Aloof, and a little defensive. Definitely a Marshmallow._

Rachel, having had _more_ than enough, tells Finn and Kurt that they’re clearly in need of more sleep if they’re imagining each other as cartoon cats. She tells them to go to Kurt’s loft nook and discuss cat them over some warm milk. Kurt does the honors, serving him his drink in a mug that says ‘I Don’t Want no Tubbs’ on the front. They retreat to Kurt’s nook, feeling guilty that perhaps their chat from earlier on _had_ woken up Rachel, but it’s a Friday night in New York City, and she could have gone out to a club with Jesse quite easily. 

Finn thinks about Rachel in one of the New York-her spangly mini dresses she wears, eyes covered in thick, dark make-up and her hair gelled back with a glossy shine, and he really doesn’t miss that. He misses how she was _before_ New York, and even how she was looking more like her old self at Mr. Schue’s failed wedding, but he’s changed enough too to know this is not the future he wants.

 _Thanks, stupid cat game_ , he thinks, because if it wasn’t for that stupid cat game, he wouldn’t be here to even have that realization.


End file.
